


Reasons Beyond Reason

by Katiejhawk



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29455518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiejhawk/pseuds/Katiejhawk
Summary: Sidney and Charlotte explain, separately, why they fell in love.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood & Sidney Parker, Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Comments: 107
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I expect this will be three chapters, possibly four.
> 
> Special thanks to @HappyKapi, @CordeliaJane70 and @rebeccalj1599 for giving this a read-through. Any errors are mine.
> 
> Thanks to the Facebook user who inspired this by wondering why Charlotte ever fell in love with Sidney.
> 
> And thanks to @Panstick. Her #SchemeFic version of Mr. Crowe inspired me to use him as a starting point.

Francis Crowe strolled into the men’s club on a Tuesday afternoon and was, sadly, not surprised to see Sidney Parker in his cups. Again.

“Dammit, man, being this level of intoxicated on a regular basis and during daylight hours is my occupation,” Crowe said to his brooding friend, who barely acknowledged him.

Since they had returned to London from Sanditon following their friend Lord Babington’s wedding, Parker had been steeped in alcohol. It was so bad, he did not even care what foul brew he was drinking.

Crowe remained standing, both hands on his cane supporting his lanky frame. As it was early, he was still reasonably sober. He sighed, knowing he would have to remain so today.

He was capable of it. He just did not like it. But what he liked less was seeing Parker endlessly in this state. While he was known to overindulge every now and then, Parker had not been drunk like this, day in and day out, since the witch he was now engaged to broke him a decade ago. 

Crowe could usually count on Babington or Parker to be sensible so he did not need to be, but Babbers was on his wedding trip and Parker was, quite frankly, a mess. So it was down to Crowe to be the adult, a role he avoided at all costs.

“Dammit,” he said again. “Alright, Parker, time to move.”

“Where’re we going?” Parker slurred as Crowe helped him to his feet. Crowe nearly collapsed under Parker’s weight and gagged from the overwhelming smell of alcohol, smoke and sweat.

This was a terrible sign. Parker always took great care in his appearance. Even when participating in boxing matches, Parker bobbed and weaved to avoid blows to the face. It would not do for him to attempt to conduct his business covered in bruises that could be seen.

“We are going to Bedford Place,” Crowe told him. “You are going to have a bath while I see your cook about her hangover cure and some coffee. Then we are going to get you sober enough to tell me what the devil is going on.”

“No,” Parker said weakly. “If I’m sober, I’ll feel ... everything. I can’t.”

Crowe was sympathetic. He knew what it was to drink to forget. He did it daily.

“I promise, once you have told me everything this one time, we will find ourselves the best bottle of brandy and work our way down to the worst,” Crowe replied. “Come on.”

Crowe called for his carriage and sought the footman’s help to get Parker inside. It was no mean feat as Parker was no help and bloody heavy. The man was entirely too serious about his fitness. Crowe wrinkled his nose in disdain because exercise involved the dirtiest word in Crowe’s vocabulary: work.

Parker slumped over on his bench and did not move again during the short ride to Bedford Place. Crowe sighed and, in a rare moment of introspection, wondered if he was regularly this difficult for Parker and Babbers. He shut down that train of thought quickly as he did not care for its destination.

When they reached the townhouse, the footman helped Crowe get Parker to the door, where the butler, Mr. Hughes, and the valet, whose name Crowe did not know, took over. They hauled Parker upstairs with requests to ready a bath and not leave him alone lest he slip under.

Crowe found his way to the kitchen, where the cook, Mrs. Watts, cast him a wary eye. He held up his hands signaling that he came in peace.

“My dear Mrs. Watts, Mr. Parker is, um, indisposed and in desperate need of your hangover special and the strongest coffee you can brew. I’m afraid tea will not do the trick today.”

Mrs. Watts, who had known Crowe since he was young boy, nodded sadly after absorbing his request. Her hangover remedy had become the regular menu lately, and that was if anyone could persuade Mr. Parker to eat.

Crowe studied his feet to avoid the look of concern in Mrs. Watts’ hazel eyes. She knew as well as he did how rapidly Parker could spiral out of control. The last time, he partook in every vice within his reach. This time, so far, it seems to be only alcohol.

After giving her a quick nod, Crowe excused himself and went to check on Parker. Mr. Hughes informed him that the valet was helping dress his friend. Crowe asked that the food and coffee be brought to Parker’s room when it was ready, then headed upstairs and knocked on the door of the room that had been his friend’s for as long as Crowe had known him.

Parker was clumsily trying to arrange himself on a long settee, gave up and stumbled to his bed.

A quick knock let them know the food had arrived.

“Enter,” Crowe called out.

Once the trays were placed on a small round table by the window facing the gardens, Mr. Hughes left.

Crowe caught Parker’s eye and motioned him over. Neither man spoke as Crowe poured the coffee with an uncharacteristically steady hand. “Damn sobriety,” he thought.

Parker had a sip of coffee, then halfheartedly took a bite of dry toast as he warily eyed his friend, while Crowe dug into his scrambled eggs and took it as a sign to begin.

“Alright, spill it. All of it.”

As if it were the beginning and the end of it, Parker simply stated, “I am in love.”

“I figured, as you are engaged,” Crowe replied.

Parker sighed. “With Charlotte. Miss Heywood.”

Crowe, stunned by the revelation, waited for his brain to take it in and his mouth to react.

“Oh. Oh, shit.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidney talks. A lot. With Crowe’s encouragement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to @HappyKapi, @CordeliaJane70 and @rebeccalj1599 for looking over the first draft of this chapter. I made a significant addition and some smaller changes to it since they read it. All errors remain mine.
> 
> I’m working out the next chapter, so please have patience.
> 
> Thanks for reading and for your kudos and comments. ❤️

Sidney Parker stared at his plate, knowing he should eat but lacking the appetite. Since he said his final farewell to Charlotte Heywood on the cliff road above Sanditon, food tasted like ashes. Alcohol served a dual purpose: It burned away the taste and his memories, as long as he kept drinking.

Now Crowe, of all people, is forcing sobriety on him. Thankfully, his betrothed had decided it was a fine time to cross the Channel so she could go shopping in Paris for their wedding and her future life as Mrs. Parker. Otherwise, bouts of forced temperance would have been more frequent.

Sidney dragged his eyes upward toward Crowe’s face and saw that comprehension was seeping in and that questions were forming. He waited for the dam to break.

Crowe looked like he did not know which question to pose first. Sidney could not blame him. He had turned them over in his mind many, many times in the weeks between the fire that had robbed him of his desired future and Babington’s wedding and come away with nothing but unsatisfactory answers.

For Sidney, the most pressing question was also the most unanswerable. Why? After a decade of building the walls around his heart ever higher, Charlotte had laid waste to them in a matter of weeks, leaving his heart the freest and most exposed it had ever been. Why did the universe choose that moment to trample it in the cruelest possible way?

The worst of the damage came from knowing that he had broken Charlotte’s heart in the same way his once had been. For money. True, Sidney had done it for selfless reasons. Were it not for his sister-in-law, Mary, and her children, he gladly would have given up every pound he had if it meant Charlotte would be by his side. But the effect was the same: an innocent heart left tattered.

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Crowe finally said, shaking Sidney loose from his reverie.

“Indeed.”

“Well, Parker, do I need to ask all the questions I have, or can you answer without prompting?” Crowe asked.

“Why don’t you ask me the question you most want answered first and I will pick up the story from there?”

“Alright,” Crowe replied before taking a deep breath and bracing himself for the wrath that could well follow. “Why, if you are in love with the delightful Miss Heywood, are you engaged to the wickedest creature I have had the misfortune to encounter?”

Ah, an easy question. Crowe had never liked Mrs. Campion, but he, uncharacteristically, had been holding his tongue in the weeks since she and Sidney had become engaged. So he forgave the insult. In fact, he might have agreed with the sentiment if he had not been witness to the evils of slavery.

“Tom,” Sidney finally replied. “My visionary of a brother, who lives with his head in the clouds, was not bothered by such practicalities as insuring the terraces he was building. The fool is £80,000 in debt and Lady Denham demanded her investment be returned within a week.”

Crowe’s eyes grew comically large when he heard the extent of Tom’s follies. Sidney’s laughter at his friend’s reaction was laced with every ounce of bitterness he felt in that moment.

“I went to every bank I could think of,” Sidney continued. “I knocked on the doors of so many potential investors that I lost track of the count. Out of desperation, I went to Mrs. Campion. I do not know why I hoped that she would show a measure of kindness after what she had done to me.”

Sidney shook his head at his foolishness on that score.

“She agreed to take on the debt, but only if I would marry her,” he said, thinking of how his future with Charlotte sailed away without him in that moment.

Crowe’s eyebrows shot up into the hair curling over his forehead. Sidney thought about how expressive his friend’s face was when he was not numbed by alcohol.

As the son of an earl, Crowe had had more options available to him than many second sons, but he chose the army. The horrors he saw, particularly during the Battle of New Orleans, meant that since his return, he was never without a flask. That he was starkly sober now was a testament to the concern he held for Sidney.

“Let’s set aside Mrs. Campion for now,” Crowe said, regaining Sidney’s attention. “When did you fall in love with Miss Heywood? Did you not once describe her as a burr under your saddle?”

Sidney smiled. They had arrived at his favorite subject. Miss Heywood. Charlotte.

He thought back, trying to remember when he had called her that. It must have been when his friends plied him with bottle after bottle in their attempt to extract what was troubling him after she had happened upon him sea bathing at the cove.

“I cannot say with any certainty when it happened, but I can tell you when I realized it: the day of the regatta.” So much had happened that day. Sidney tried to untangle it enough to give Crowe a comprehensible answer. Suddenly, something dawned on him.

“Mrs. Campion was taking tiny little jabs at Charlotte all day, and it was wholly my fault,” Sidney said, shame emanating from his entire being. “I did not properly introduce them when we came across Charlotte building a sandcastle with Tom’s children. I sought to protect her from Mrs. Campion’s barbs by downplaying her importance to our family, to me, but now I can see how spectacularly that backfired.”

Just another way he had failed her. He itched for something stronger than coffee at that thought.

“Charlotte was not equal to the task of fending off Mrs. Campion’s cruelties that day,” Sidney continued. “I see it all so clearly now. Just as Charlotte had made me vulnerable to the hurt I am now enduring, I must have done the same to her with my confusing signals and uncertainty. It did not take much on Mrs. Campion’s part to wound the most confident woman I know. And I unwittingly helped. I paid her what I believe is a compliment, but Mrs. Campion twisted it and had her set laughing at Charlotte.”

If Crowe would not let him drink, then he had to smoke. He lit his cheroot and ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair before continuing.

“Tom had been nattering on all day, no, ever since Mrs. Maudsley’s rout, about ‘dear Eliza’ and how he was certain she would not remain Mrs. Campion for long if I had my way,” Sidney scowled, utterly annoyed by how oblivious his brother was to matters that were not Sanditon. “Now that I think on it, I am not entirely sure Tom was not pushing a courtship because he was sure our marriage would solve his financial problems and further his dreams.”

Revelations continued to travel through the grooves of Sidney’s brain like water trickling around pebbles in a stream. “I once overheard Tom tell Charlotte about the broken engagement. He sketched over my behavior and told her that after Antigua, the man I was ‘never quite returned.’ I suppose that is true, but it is also true that Tom is not the same man he was. His mania over Sanditon has made him careless with those who love him most.”

Sidney took another drag from his cheroot and laughed at his own stupidity. “Charlotte hardly knew any of us but accurately diagnosed Tom’s foibles, and Arthur’s, come to think of it, during that first ball in Sanditon. The only one she was wrong about was me, and I proved it to her instantly.”

Crowe finally spoke. “How did she describe you?”

Sidney smirked. “She said she thought I must be the sensible brother.”

Crowe laughed with such force he nearly fell out of his chair, which in turn made Sidney laugh with sincerity for the first time since the fire.

“Well,” Crowe said when his laughter finally subsided, “that is the only time I have known Miss Heywood to be wrong.”

“It turns out she was also wrong to trust me with her heart,” Sidney said sadly.

“You cannot blame yourself for that, Parker,” Crowe told him gently. “Tom is entirely at fault.”

Sidney scoffed. “Is he? Maybe if I had recognized his constant pestering for the desperation it was, I could have done something before it came to this. He was constantly throwing in my face how he helped me out all those years ago and implying that I still owed him for that, as if I had not long since repaid him and lent him money I will never see again.”

He was becoming agitated and inhaled his tobacco in an effort to settle himself. “I got my back up about it. Yes, I did all he asked and more, but it made me seek to avoid him. If I had been more supportive, perhaps he would have confided in me, been honest about the full extent of his problems, not the least of which turned out to be the lack of insurance.”

Crowe shook his head. “You cannot take on all the blame for that and all of the responsibility for solving it. Is Tom not a grown man? Is Arthur not? Arthur is sharper than you give him credit for, by the way.”

Sidney tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at that.

“Oh, do not look so surprised. Neither at the observation nor the fact that I am the one doing the observing. I am also more aware of things, even in my usual state, than you might believe. Mostly, I just do not care to involve myself.”

Parker sighed. “Fine. But the fact remains that neither one of them would have been able to access that amount of money in such a short amount of time.”

“True enough,” Crowe acknowledged.

“However, we have now wandered far afield from Charlotte and that first ball. Oh, Crowe, my actions were, quite frankly, unforgivable. Do you remember that rout last year when I let out one stray rude comment to that poor little debutante, who then ran off in tears?”

Crowe nodded, amused at the memory. Even for someone as genial as himself, dealing with so many young women taught to feign empty-headedness and agreeability can be a trial. For someone of Parker’s temperament, it is torture.

“That was a compliment in comparison to what I said to Charlotte. I berated her in the most abusive manner, extensively, for daring to criticize my brothers,” he sighed. “The truth was she was in my blood from the moment I met her. That feeling was so foreign to me that I behaved abominably to put her off of me, to push her away. But she was everywhere. I derisively called her ‘the ubiquitous Miss Heywood.’”

Crowe laughed. “If she did not have the measure of you at first, it did not take her long to ascertain it. I heard what she whispered to you at Lady Denham’s ridiculous luncheon. I must say, I think she is the first woman who did not fall at your feet once you decided to turn on the charm.”

Sidney clenched his jaw at the memory. “I will always wonder whether things might have turned out differently if I had not been unspeakably rude from the moment we met. She was walking arm in arm with Mary to Lady D’s, and I did not wait for our introduction. I asked if she was a new maid.”

Sidney hung his head in shame as Crowe had another laugh at his expense.

“Oh, God. You know, she probably still thinks I actually believed that. I never had time to tell her ...,” he choked a bit on his words, then cleared his throat. “She was the most captivating of women from the first glimpse of her. And I made her believe otherwise for so long. So long.”

Sidney really needed that drink. And now.

“Have you heard enough of my pathetic, hopeless little tale? Can I go back to drinking now?”

Crowe shook his head. Something was bothering him about this. “How do you know Miss Heywood cared for you? You have not told me how you went from being constantly at odds to being in love.”

Sidney smiled wistfully.

“After the regatta, I congratulated Mr. Stringer for his victory and he whispered to me that it was not the prize he was after. I immediately understood two things: that I was not the only man who cared for Charlotte, loved her, and that Stringer knew he had lost. To me.”

Sidney paused, taking a bite of now-cold toast as he gathered the will to go on with the story.

“Earlier in the day, Arthur said he admired my spirit of forgiveness. He said if it had been him, he would not be able to bring himself to trust Mrs. Campion. He can be silly with his health complaints, but as you have pointed out, he is wiser than I have given him credit for. That, in addition to an illuminating conversation with Charlotte about compatibility, made me realize I needed to send Mrs. Campion packing for good.”

Mrs. Campion had not taken this turn of events well. She had, somehow, deluded herself into believing Sidney had actually waited 10 years for her. The truth was that he had ceased loving her a long time ago. The idea of her had superseded the real her in his mind, and spending some of the previous week becoming reacquainted with her had made that clear.

“I finally woke up to the fact that Mrs. Campion was mean-spirited and that I often fell silent when faced with it. I did not like who I was when I was with her,” Sidney spoke again. “After being privileged enough to witness Charlotte’s unfailing kindness and her determination to help others regardless of the cost to her, I realized there was no question who was the better woman and the better woman for me.”

Crowe looked relieved upon hearing Sidney’s evaluation of Mrs. Campion. It seemed as if some wheels were starting to spin in the recesses of his mind.

But all he said was, “Go on.”

“That night, I went to Trafalgar House hoping to speak with Charlotte, hoping she would allow it after she had asked me earlier to leave her be,” Sidney recalled. “I found her alone in Tom’s study. After some brief words confirming Mrs. Campion’s departure, I told Charlotte that I was my best, truest self when I was with her. Then, like the coward I am, I turned tail and left before she could say anything. After finally admitting something resembling normal human emotions for the first time in years, I knew I did not have the strength to face her rejection just then.”

Sidney’s thoughts turned to the following day. Melancholy set in as he reached the peak of their relationship on the cliff tops above town. One blissful moment was all they had. One perfect kiss. One moment when they were, finally, of one mind.

Crowe raised his eyebrows and waited for him to continue.

Sidney plunged ahead.

“We went for a walk on the cliffs. You would have enjoyed it for how nervous I was, bumbling like a fool, talking about the weather and asking after her family’s welfare,” he said as Crowe chuckled. “Here I am, gifted in the art of persuasion, and I cannot come up with anything of consequence to say. Granted, she’s the most intelligent person of my acquaintance and she has left me speechless on more than one occasion.”

It crossed Sidney’s mind that Babington would love this story, given how much he and Crowe teased him for his attempts at courting the now Lady Babington.

“Finally, I referenced our one-sided conversation from the night before. We admitted our sentiments, in a manner of speaking,” Sidney smiled. “We found ourselves in alignment and I resolved that I would propose to her that night at the Midsummer Ball. But we were constantly kept apart that evening and once we finally had a moment alone, I began my proposal only to be interrupted again. Then the fire happened. You know the rest. Do not make me repeat it.”

Sidney scrubbed his face, weary from the retelling. “I do not know what was worse: breaking Charlotte’s heart by telling her I had to engage myself to the woman who tormented her because of me or watching her tears after I chased her carriage down to say goodbye. Do you know, she was trying to be strong for me? I did not deserve that kindness.”

Self-loathing resettled in his chest. “Can we drink now? Please?”

Crowe thought for a moment, then shook his head.

At that, Sidney exploded. “What else do you want from me?”

“Do not bite my head off, Parker,” Crowe calmly replied. “We both need to be sober for what is to come.”

“What are you talking about, Crowe?”

“As I see it, we have a few problems to solve before you can seek a reconciliation with Miss Heywood,” Crowe said. “You are going to owe me so much, it will make Tom guilting you for years after paying off a few thousand pounds in debt seem like a minor annoyance.”

He winked, though, went to the door and asked Mr. Hughes to bring them each one glass of brandy. “I guess we are each due a little relief. You for telling the tale, me for having to hear it.”

Sidney laughed but did not dare allow himself any measure of hope. He did not deserve it but, more than that, he would not survive having it ripped away again. However, he held up his glass to Crowe’s and asked, “What do you have in mind?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidney and Crowe discuss who would help and what the next steps are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @CordeliaJane70 for giving this a read-through. Any mistakes remain mine.

“No. Absolutely not!”

Crowe rolled his eyes and sighed. Of course Parker was going to fight him on this part of his plan. This was a crucial element as far as Crowe was concerned. He just needed to find a way to get Parker on board.

“Let’s table this for now,” Crowe finally replied.

“You can table it for eternity because I will not agree to it,” Parker said.

Stubbornness often worked in Parker’s favor, but Crowe refused to concede.

“Moving on. Who do you believe we can count on to aid us?” Crowe asked.

Parker took the last sip of his brandy, which he had been savoring since he did not know when his next glass would be coming. He thought a moment, then said, “Babington. He knew my intentions during the Midsummer Ball. Do you know when he is to return?”

“I believe in a week’s time.” Crowe smiled. They would need Babbers. When they were all at school together, the three friends planned elaborate pranks and never once were caught. In fact, they developed a kind of shorthand that allowed them to communicate, sometimes code words, sometimes hand signals, always effective.

Of course, the stakes were higher than being sent home from school in shame, but their tactics should be useful no matter the scale.

“I think we can involve Lady B. If I know Babbers, she has been apprised of the situation,” Parker said. “Besides, she may want to help Charlotte. It seems they grew closer after Charlotte showed her such kindness following Sir Edward’s outburst at the ball.”

“Alright,” Crowe replied. “Who else? Would Mrs. Parker be willing?”

“Mary might well help,” Parker said. “She loves Charlotte and I believe she was aware of our growing attachment but never said anything directly.”

He paused, then said, “Tom, however, must be kept out of it entirely because I do not trust him to keep quiet or to keep to the plan. If he can find a gain for Sanditon at the expense of all else, he will do it. That said, if we involve Mary, it could put a strain on her, though is still terribly angry at him. I will have to give it more thought.”

“What about Arthur?”

Parker ran both hands through his thick hair. “Based on the observations you mentioned, do you really think he is up to the task?”

“We may have to take him out of your sister’s sphere of influence for a time, but yes, I do,” Crowe said.

“You know, Crowe, if we succeed in this particular case, perhaps we can take on Diana’s nerves,” Parker laughed.

“Oh, no,” Crowe threw up his hands. “This is a one-time deal. I would need to be sober to solve it and drunk to deal with it. If you are serious about that, though, I have an idea, but first things first. Anyone else?”

“I cannot think of anyone else who would help and be trustworthy,” Parker sighed.

“Which brings me ‘round to my first suggestion.”

“Crowe,” Parker growled.

“Admit it, Parker, we need her.”

“No. I gave her false hope by stopping her carriage on her way home. I cannot do that to her again. It would be beyond cruel.”

“Parker, you said it yourself. She is the most intelligent woman you know. From what you told me of Miss Lambe’s abduction, you would not have found her without Miss Heywood’s assistance.”

“Crowe,” Parker began in a sad voice.

“In fact, you making these decisions without her astute guidance is likely why you mucked this up so badly,” Crowe interrupted. “Desperation has lead many a person to make ill-advised choices. You are more than aware of this.”

From the look on Parker’s face, Crowe knew he was making headway. He just needed something to seal the deal.

“Come on, Parker, you know Miss Heywood,” Crowe continued. “If she knew you were making plans that affect her future without involving her, how do you think she would react to that? Would it make her more or less inclined to forgive you for this debacle?”

Parker looked down in defeat. “I bow to your superior argument. Good God, I never thought I would say that to you. How has it come to this?” He grinned.

“Well, Parker, like I said, I am observant. I am capable of putting my skills beyond carousing to use. I would just rather not as it takes too much effort. You know how I despise anything that could be construed as work.”

“That begs the question, Crowe: Why did you decide to help me now?” Parker asked.

Crowe cursed to himself. Of course sober Parker would pick up on what drunk Parker never would have. He really did not want to answer, but Parker asked and Crowe would not lie.

He resisted the urge to reach for his flask, feeling he would lose the ground he gained on Miss Heywood’s involvement if he drank. “It gives me hope,” Crowe finally said.

“How does my hopeless situation give you hope? And hope for what?”

“You and I are a lot alike when it comes to matters of the heart,” Crowe replied, cursing the introspection he avoided. “In a matter of months, you a crusty, confirmed bachelor, turned into a besotted fool. You found someone who changed your mind. Changed you. I want that for myself. I want someone who can see past my nonsense and love me for me.”

Crowe cast his eyes down, not wanting to see Parker’s reaction, as he waited for laughter that did not come.

“I do not know what I expected to hear, but it certainly was not that,” Parker said as he looked at Crowe in amazement.

“I will tell you, though, Charlotte did not change me,” Parker continued thoughtfully. “I simply became the person who was lost all those years ago, the person I was before Mrs. Campion. Only a little wiser, I hope. Charlotte brought that out in me. I wanted to be better, for her, if that makes sense.”

Crowe found the courage to look up and saw the warmth in his friend’s expression.

“It does make sense. I do enjoy my life now. Ever so much,” Crowe replied with a twinkle in his eye. “Nevertheless, I hope I find someone who inspires me to be a better man. But if you tell anyone, I will deny it until my dying day after killing you whilst you sleep.”

Parker grinned at a memory. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Can we get back to business now?”

“Sure. We have a team mostly decided on. What is next?” Parker asked.

“We will need to find a way to end your engagement.”

Parker smirked. “I have the feeling Mrs. Campion will take care of that for us.”

“What do you mean?” Crowe was perplexed.

“Have you not noticed? She is terribly inconstant,” Parker laughed. “She views me as a prize she won. But it is a hollow victory as she knows I no longer love her and never will again. Deep down, we all want to be loved and since I cannot give her that, I will be cast aside the moment she thinks she has found someone who will.”

Crowe was about to respond when Parker added, “But we should have a contingency plan.”

“What do you suggest?” Crowe asked.

“I think Lady Worcester would be helpful in this arena,” Parker answered.

“Lady Worcester?”

“Yes. She became rather fond of Charlotte,” Parker looked amused. “How does she do that? She charms almost everyone she meets. Some of us are just slower on the uptake.”

“So, we will need Miss Heywood.”

Parker nodded, looking wistful. “How do we go about this without hurting her further? And what if she does not want this? What if she cannot forgive me?”

“Miss Heywood is nothing like Mrs. Campion,” Crowe answered. “She does not change her heart on a whim. She will just need time, I imagine. And if what you fear the most comes to pass? Well, you do this for yourself. You do not want to be chained to that wretched woman for the rest of your life with no hope of happiness.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Sidney said. “Where do we go from here?”

“Dinner? Brandy? In moderation, of course,” Crowe said, then put his hand over his face in dismay. “Who the hell am I, talking about moderation? This is all your fault, Parker.”

Parker looked down at his boots and grinned.

Crowe regained his thoughts. “At dinner, we will compile a list of potential investors or suckers with more money than sense. We will compose notes to arrange meetings with them. Then we wait for the Babingtons to return. We will need Lady B to write to Miss Heywood. I think Mrs. Parker, if you decide to involve her, might run the risk of having her letter go unread.”

“That is a distinct possibility,” Parker concurred. “Charlotte has a kind and selfless heart, but there is only so much bruising it can take and seeing the name Parker might add to that.”

Nodding, Crowe solemnly asked, “Now, can I trust you to remain disgustingly sober in the coming weeks?”

Parker tilted his head in agreement.

“Good, because I cannot do it on my own. What’s more, if you go back on your word, I will head to Willingden to propose to Miss Heywood myself.”


End file.
